A BOARD GAME HAS A PREGNANT SIMPLICITY. Safe hiding for the introvert, or the liberal in the family. . . or the conservative in the family. Shelter from the unremitting party prerequisite: be charming. If not charming, be clever. Clever is even better. Clever is definitely better. When you hang up your coat and set the hostess gift on the credenza, the rules are clear. Or they’ll become clear very soon. 6 players. Ten rounds. Only two wild cards. Pick green; it’s your lucky color. And pick the revolver; the lead pipe is barbaric. Where else do we get to “play,” unless we’re fools. Unless we’re children. But children are worthy opponents in a world constructed for “Age 4+.” No monthly sales report garners triple points for a Q-word. Where else is an X eXciting? Who else laughs at extortion? Only the man in the top hat. You can triumph without suffering, here. You can cheat without suffering, here. You can lose without suffering, here. Sure, the game is rigged against you, but it doesn’t hurt for real, or for very long.
[Typology of personal board game collection.]